


from the ashes we shall rise

by Maria_and_Aguilars_Codex_1492



Series: The 100 and the Ground [1]
Category: His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman, The 100 (TV), The 100 Series - Kass Morgan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Daemons, Ark Culture, Canon divergence is canon divergence, Character Study, Clexa happens but is not endgame, Daemons, Fictional Religion & Theology, Grounder Culture, Grounders/Delinquents, Grounders/Delinquents/Mountain Men, Maya Vie Lives, Mental Health Issues, Multi, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Mythical Daemons, Mythology References, Politics, Polygamy, Season 1 theories, The Blakes are history and mythology nerds, This is a slow burn pain train, Wells Jaha Lives, the kids are not alright
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-05
Updated: 2020-04-22
Packaged: 2021-01-23 15:36:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 15,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21322540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maria_and_Aguilars_Codex_1492/pseuds/Maria_and_Aguilars_Codex_1492
Summary: A daemon could have many names and many forms. Few within the Ark ever truly settled until one was given their final position, and it was for this that most developed different deities within themselves.When her father is floated her very soul seems to settle upon itself.
Relationships: Anya/Bellamy Blake, Anya/Clarke Griffin, Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin, Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin/Anya, Clarke Griffin/Lexa, Finn Collins & Clarke Griffin, Octavia Blake/Lincoln, Raven Reyes/Original Male Character(s)
Series: The 100 and the Ground [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1537204
Comments: 14
Kudos: 76





	1. Clarke

_ Her father’s daemon, Pantaleon, an arctic hare, watches her as she creeps into her father’s studies. _

_ Their compartment on Alpha station was much larger than most on the Ark. They could afford lounging quarters, two sleeping rooms, and a study that both of her parents used. Father always said they should be grateful for what they had. Mother always said that they deserved it. Clarke wasn’t so sure. _

_ “Clarke, is there something you need?” Her father asked without turning to look at her. He sounded stressed, his back arched over his desk, and it almost made Clarke feel guilty for stepping in at all. _

_ “We finally chose our name. Apollo.” _

_ “Apollo?” _

_ “It’s short for Apollodorus.” _

* * *

* * *

When her father is floated her very soul seems to settle upon itself. Apollodorus. Back bent and legs bowed. Hyena. Too large for a normal settled daemon on the Ark, but did it matter anymore? Clarke had stood within the council chambers before her judges. _ Guilty _ , Jaha’s daemon Athena declared, snapping her small sharp beak. Her own mother doesn’t seem to be fazed by the verdict. And Clarke tries to remain unfazed as Apollodorus snaps at her hand as their crimes are read aloud to be placed within the Ark’s archives. Even if she does somehow manage to survive her second trial she knows that she will fall from her position. _ Sedition. _ No one from Alpha can hold a record. No one from Arrow, Go-Sci, or Tesla can hold a record either. She would be demoted to the working class. _ Treason. _ Her family name fallen to a pit that was nearly impossible to climb out of. Though there was no guarantee that she would find work there either. _ With intentions of genocide. _ There was too little space for a daemon like hers there. There were too many years of them being underneath her feet. _ And the act of insurgency upon the very civilization of these twelve stations. _

“Perhaps we would live if you had remained useful.” Apollodorus snarls, grungy following her as she is taken to the Sky Box.

“You’re not supposed to hate me you know.” A soul wasn’t supposed to hate itself. 

  
“Oh dear Clarke, when I told you that we would be destined for greatness, I never said that we would be _ good _.”

* * *

* * *

_ Wells smiles at her, Medusa perched upon his shoulder as they play within the opened halls of the library. _

_ “It’s not fair,” Clarke scowls, a joking whine falling from her as Apollo curls around her legs. “You definitely used Medusa to cheat.” _

_ “Technically Medusa is me, so no I am not. It’s not my fault that I am better at chess than you.” Wells smile fills a warm hole within her chest and he takes her Queen from right beneath her. The sharp sound of her piece fills the room; her most important piece lost within a sea of white marble. _

_ “That is fine because I have an anatomy class to attend.” Clarke reaches down, running her hands beneath Apollo’s fur, as she stands. Today he had chosen the form of a Persian, perhaps tomorrow it will be a Minx. _

_ “Whatever you say, but next time you must promise not to be a sore loser.” _

* * *

* * *

On the ground, Apollodorus refuses to shift into anything aside from his Hyena form, and Clarke doesn’t know if that is an advantage or a disadvantage. It certainly doesn’t help that the delinquents are still shifting, remaining between certain forms, yet taking ones that had been out of bounds before. Larger daemons. Exotic daemons. Daemons who take forms of animals that probably no longer remain in North America, let alone the world. 

Bellamy had been rallying the delinquents around him. Raccoon and fox daemons rolling around in the dirt around the larger daemons of him and his sisters. The group of boys that had started forming a gang around him shifting into larger wolves that looked at her as if she was prey. 

It doesn’t help that Wells looks upon her with pity as Apollodorus snaps at Medusa, her form shifting from a small owl to a brightly coloured snake. Clarke almost wishes that she could snap at him too if it didn’t result in the pit of guilt that was beginning to grow within her. 

  
“Going somewhere princess?” Bellamy asks, his tiger daemon circling around them. 

And despite Clarke telling herself that she wasn’t afraid, that she wouldn’t be intimidated by him, Apollodorus thought differently. Hyena’s were certainly the top-tier of the scavengers, but the tiger was the King of Beast. Apollodorus knew their place even if Clarke didn’t.

* * *

* * *

Apollodorus fur is matted in mud and the dust of those she loves. The ones she tries to protect. Glass death by the hands of Charlotte breaks the camp for the better. The leadership and military structure that the Blake’s had tried so hard to form finally solidifies when they come back to camp three people short. The dust of Knoxx is buried within Apollodorus paws, and Clarke tries to hold back the tears every time that she thinks of Charlotte. Sweet little Astraea, the small coyote, turning to dust within the wind as Charlotte leans back into her fall. The dust had found its way onto the hyena’s fur and bile burns away at Clarke’s throat. 

It’s easier to explain of how Murphy has been banished with his blue dart frog, Fortuna. It’s less easy to speak of Charlotte and Astraea, and how not even Finn could protect them. His red doe, Daphne, constantly jumping in fear. Too pure and innocent for the remains of the Earth. 

“Do you think they will be next?” Apollodorus ask, and it is the most sincere and softly spoken that he has been with her in years. 

“Why would you care?” Clarke ask back. Too afraid to look at him. Too afraid to move from her spot at the haul of the dropship. She would have to move eventually though, to dig a grave, and to place an empty marker on a spot that will never have one. 

“Apollo loved Daphne.” 

“Didn’t Apollo cause her death in the end?” 

Apollodorus doesn’t respond. Clarke tries to not pass out the next time that Finn locks eyes with her. 


	2. Bellamy

The first memory that he holds of a daemon is that of his mother. Her soul had settled as a Galapagos hawk upon her eighteenth name day when she had been given the position of librarian technician upon the Ark’s library that sat within Arrow station. And Bellamy had looked fondly upon Helios. Likened his form to the daemon of Achilles and Emperor Severus Alexander. A far greater daemon than his own and the others that he had seen on the Ark. Though his mother had scolded him for that and Helios had explained that distasting your own daemon would only bring pain upon yourself. 

  
  
  
  


_ “You’re destined for great things, Bellamy. Never beat yourself down.” _ Hera had whispered at his side in the form of an inky black carrion. Coragyps and Crows were her preferred forms ever since she had taken to birds, and while Bellamy wouldn’t complain he noticed how others looked at him. Adults held aversion to him and his fellow classmates didn’t know what to think of the boy whose daemon wasn’t a puppy, kitten, or sweet song bird. It wasn’t their fault that they liked shiny things. 

_ “Perhaps.” _

  
  
  
  


On his tenth name day, his mother is demoted from librarian shift leader to seamstress for being involved with a man in a far higher position. It is that day that he learns of the Ark’s system of marriage and relationships. Of how everything is sanctioned for the good of the people and how the man who had him wasn’t authorized to marry let alone form a coalition. Things that he normally would have learned in his qualifier courses.

She says she is thankful that they had allowed her an aptitude test, given her a better option at a second chance, but he sees the weight that is placed upon her. The Blakes had been the historians on the Ark since the twelve stations had remained in space centuries ago and Bellamy knows that it will be difficult for him to find work above the station that they will be moved to. He almost ask where Helios is, missing his smudged brown feathers, but then the weight settles even more. The council had made her daemon resettle. An easy act for those unassigned and a painful act for those that had been permitted a final settling. Instead of the crepuscular raptor that used to sit upon her shoulders he sees a beatle sitting upon her like a broach. Emerald and gold hidden away by her long brunette hair. 

“Khepera.” Aurora states, allowing him to crawl down her arm and into her hand. 

“The Egyptian God of the Rising Sun and Renewal,” Bellamy may hold Greeks and Romans in a close place, but he was fond of all mythologies, “I find it fitting.” Aurora had been the Roman Goddess of Dawn and Helios the Greek God of the Sun. Perhaps Khepera would be a proper resettled form. 

  
  
  
  


As the months passed, his mother had fallen ill, though she tried to hide it off as simply _ readjustment _ issues. To having had four rations to only two, with only limited credits that could barely sustain one person let alone two, from the even fewer water portions. _ From the stress of it all _ . Or at least that is what she told the Guards with their dog daemons. Bellamy knew the truth though, that he was going to be a brother, that his mother had life growing inside of her. Bellamy was excited, Hera only slightly worried, and as the year finally enclosed Bellamy would look upon his second fondest memory of someone else’s daemon. That of his sisters, _ twins _ his mother had informed him in her weakened state, and Bellamy had watched as golden dust swirled around them to form their daemons. 

“Would you like to name them?” Aurora asked, Khepera clinging to her shoulder as she passed one of them over. “I named you Bellamy Lucius Aelius for a reason afterall.”

“Because Lucius Aelius was the son of Emperor Aurelius?” The lights of their room flickered, reflecting against Khepera and his mother’s tired eyes. _ Names hold power _, he had been told when Hera first spoke to mother of their first name. Bellamy hummed as he looked upon his sisters, his responsibilities. 

“Octavia Cassius, for Octavia Minor and the famous senator,” his sisters small daemons appeared fragile as they clung to the bed sheets that held them, “and Persephone Valerian, for the Goddess and the emperor.”

“Those are very powerful names for such small things.” Khepera said looking down upon the orange butterfly and the silver moth. 

“They will be strong.” Hera spoke back, shifting from a black vulture to a crow. “_ I intend to speak of forms changed into new entities. _” She recited from the book that mother had given to them, one that he would pass down to his sisters. 

“_ Chance is always powerful _.” Bellamy recited back.

  
  
  


The third daemon that burned it’s way upon Bellamy was that of their father. 

He watches as his mother is floated, Khepera bursting into dust, and he can’t stand the sound of his sisters wails from behind him. Hera feels heavy upon his shoulder, shifting from raven to black vulture, her own noises of panic filling him. The Council had judged them all together as a family. Aurora had pleaded that her children be spared, but Jaha had simply disregarded them with a wave of his hand as his owl daemon spoke _ guilty _. Athena had always been a cold Goddess, Bellamy thought as Jaha sentenced Aurora to death, Bellamy for demotion, and Octavia and Persephone to future retrial. 

  
  
  
  


_ “No one survives retrial.” _ Hera had whispered in his ear and he didn’t have the heart to tell her that he already knew. Surely the upper stations enjoyed thinking that some were given second chances, but everyone from the lower stations knew that no one had survived retrial in one hundred and ninety-three years. They certainly hadn’t. That much was obvious when Vice Chancellor Marcus Kane, _ the Commander _, stood from his spot at the council table with his crow daemon sitting upon his shoulder. He was the Ark’s executioner afterall and his stance meant immediate action upon the Council's orders. 

  
  
  
  


Once his mother is gone, he feels a hand upon his shoulder, and he turns to see his executioner looking upon him with guilt ridden eyes. 

“I’m truly sorry. I loved your mother and if I had known-” Bellamy cuts him off with a sharp right hook as Hera digs her talons into his daemon. The realisation was cold, brittle against him, because how else could their tale become more tragic? Bellamy remembered his mother getting caught for being with his father, _ a man from a higher position _, the same one who got her pregnant again and demoted for their acts. 

“What is your name. Your full name.” Bellamy demanded as the sounds of batons snapped behind them. If it wasn’t for the Commander of Death raising his hand they surely would have done pushed him into the airlock already. 

“Marcus Aurelius Kane.” He speaks and the connection burns something within him. 

“_ Her death is on you, Commander. _” 

Bellamy tries to not look at his sisters as the guards pull him off and proceed to subdue him. He tries not to look at their father either as he stands from the ground and looks upon his children with culpability. 

  
  
  
  


When he gets demoted he does things that he never would have thought of to keep what he holds dear--the few things that he has left to live with. 

The Head of Sector for Arrow allowed for him to collect one bag full of items while the rest would be sent to the redistribution center. Hera hung solemnly against the metal rail of the chair his mother had once sat at. 

“You know what to take. Even if they expect you to not do so.” Hera already knows what he is going to do. A normal person being rehomed would take bedding and clothing, but those things matter little to the gaping hole that fills his chest. So he takes the signed copy of Ovid with his mother’s message, the worn stuffed bunny that Octavia treasured, and Persephone’s soft worn sheep. He takes the few items that had been passed down through his family, the few real history books that had not gone to be locked away centuries ago, and the data pad that archives the Ark’s library. Things his mother had smuggled back to her possession upon her demotion. 

Later that night, with Hera and the bag by his side, Bellamy goes to sleep on the cold metal floor within his smaller housing unit.

  
  
  
  


“_ Now stands my task accomplished, such a work. As not the wrath of _ _ Jove _ _ , nor fire nor sword. Nor the devouring ages can destroy _ .” His daemon speaks as the air from the Earth blows into the drop ship. Octavia takes the first step onto the ground, Persephone looking up at him with adortion, and they will be _ magnificent _ Bellamy thinks as he follows thirdly. The delinquents rushing out from behind them in waves, daemons shifting into forms never allowed or dreamed before. Hera changes from a black vulture to a creature that Bellamy had only seen in old earth videos and books. _ A tiger _, he thinks as his sisters daemons seem to follow suit, forms changing into new deities. 

“I think I prefer the name Claudia Marcella for this form.” His daemon speaks, standing proud and regal next to him. _ Claudia Marcella _, the daughter of Octavia Minor, who he had named Octavia. 

“Hades!” Persephone cries out as her own carrion daemon shifts from black vulture to crow to a tiger that mirrors his own. Octavia laughs, joyful and happy, Zeus following suit as her own hummingbird morphs into the larger cat. 

It is in this moment that Bellamy first sees Clarke Griffin. 

  
  
  
  


Everyone has heard of the Ark princess who committed treason. It was one of the few crimes that circulated enough to wash the Blake name out of the Arkers mouths. Only the last time that Bellamy had heard, the princess of Alpha station had a fluffy white cat daemon, and Bellamy is positive that he hadn’t seen it shift again from the moment that he first lays eyes on her. _ Hyena _, he remembers seeing videos and reading over them when his history class had been going over animals that lived in Africa. He had never seen a Hyena daemon before. Though he never liked the upper class to begin with so perhaps he shouldn’t be surprised that they can get away with such large daemons. 

Bellamy could recall a year ago when a woman from Hydro had permanently settled into the form of a fish. They couldn’t spare the water so her daemon was severed from her. Two years before his sisters had been arrested there had been another incident with a man from Argo settling into an elk. He claimed that he couldn’t get his daemon to switch back, or at least that was the rumor of what was said, before the man was promptly floated for his soul. What had made the Ark spare Clarke Griffin, he thought, Claudia Marcella growling at his side as her daemon began to stare at them. 

“It’s time to find Praetorians wouldn’t you say?” She asks, sizing up the scavenger daemon as she began to circle him.

  
“ _ Going somewhere Princess? _”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Daemon List:
> 
> Updated  
Bellamy Blake | Hera, Claudia Marcella | (unlisted first form), Crow, Black Vulture, Tiger
> 
> Octavia Blake | Zeus, Fabian Shapur | Butterfly, Humming Bird, Tiger
> 
> Persephone Blake | Hades, Aurelius Augustus | Moth, Crow, Black Vulture, Tiger
> 
> Aurora Blake | Helios, Khepera | Galapagos Hawk, Beetle 
> 
> Marcus Kane | Rhea | Crow (unlisted previous forms)
> 
> Theolonius Jaha | Athena | Owl (unlisted previous forms)
> 
> Clarke Griffin | Apollo, Apollodorus | Cat, Hyena
> 
> Wells | Medusa | Snake (Previously an Owl)
> 
> Finn | Daphne | Red Deer
> 
> Jake Griffin | Pantaleon | Arctic Hare
> 
> Charlotte | Astraea | Coyote
> 
> John Murphy | Fortuna | Dart Frog 
> 
> Ark Culture (using details from both the books and the show):
> 
> \- On the Ark a daemon never truly settles, remaining between different forms, until they are assigned as independent members of the Ark where they will then be given a drug that forces a permanent settle. 
> 
> \- You had to be permitted to have a marriage and child on the Ark. Marriage is considered to be the most sacred vow one can make based on the spirituality on the Ark, but they would also be done to gain higher positions. Coalitions between two people were more common as they were not Council sanctioned and allowed for easy removal. And although not crimes (unless you have more than one) it was socially looked down upon and could bring upon a demotion from your position. 
> 
> \- Demotions tended to range from loosing a job to being demoted from a certain station based upon social/economic status.
> 
> \- On the Ark daemons tended to have names from Ancient and Old Earth people, places, and religions. I thought that it would tie in well with the Ark holding a strong spiritual religion centered around the Earth. 
> 
> Head-canons:  
\- the Blake family had once been the Historians on the Ark before being demoted from the position  
\- Marcus Kane is the father of all of Aurora's children (despite Bellamy and Octavia being half-siblings in the books)  
\- the lower class and the delinquents in the Sky Box refer to Kane as being the Commander of Death as he is the one who executes those who commit crimes. I made this head canon all the way back in season 1 when the character was first introduced.


	3. Octavia

There was a time when Octavia asked her sister if her daemon had named itself yet. They were both getting to the earliest age for it to happen and she didn’t know that there was something  _ wrong _ with asking. There was just no need for etiquette with her siblings, but that didn’t mean that she didn’t notice the sour look etching itself upon their mothers face. Bellamy though had smiled, reaching up to touch his daemon’s wing, “Her name is Hera.” 

“ _ Bellamy. _ ” Mother scolded in the serious tone that she used for inspections and when he spoke of getting extra rations. 

“What does Hera mean?” Octavia asks as she reaches out to touch his soul as well. Bellamy allows it, ignoring the sharp sound of air coming from their mother, and she wonders if he would have stopped her to begin with. 

“Hera means protectress. She is the Goddess of women, marriage, family, the skies, and Olympus.” Octavia recognizes the name of  _ Olympus _ , but she doesn’t think they have gotten that far into their history lessons yet. 

“I think we’ve chosen the name Hades.” Persephone says, her moth shifting between forms of a carrion bird, and Octavia feels something settle within her chest. 

“What does Hades mean?” 

It is only later that she learns that it is  _ envy _ that she feels. She wishes that her own daemon would finally shift away from the form of butterflies into something else. She wishes that her daemon would tell her its name already. Though she knows it’s not the daemon or her siblings that she envies. She simply wishes to be _ like _ them already. They were forever bound to each other after all and Octavia was sure that if she could see it that there would be red string tying the three of them together until the ends of time. That when they died, Hades and Osiris,  Magwayen and Namtar, and even Yama will stand to judge their souls together. That their daemons will turn into dust within the cosmos, but they would leave a mark together to say that  _ they were here _ . 

“O, look!” Persephone nudges, pulling Octavia from her thoughts, and when she looks back her daemon had shifted from an orange monarch to a hummingbird vibrant with colour. It’s certainly not a carrion, but that doesn’t matter in the moment. Her soul is a sibling to their own and she feels him  _ soar _ within the small space of their living quarters.

  
  
  
  


_ “Are we daevas, Bel?” It is whispered in the dead of night when the fluorescent lighting is dimmed and their mother has left for work.  _

_ “What makes you say that?” He turned on his bed to face the hole within the floor. Just a precaution. Just in case.  _

_ “Have we not been rejected?” _

  
  
  
  


Octavia doesn’t see their mother when she is floated, everything is too quick to catch even when she looks back up, but she sees the lingering dust of Khepera.  _ There is so much dust _ , she thinks when she watches it begin to settle behind the glass. 

She wonders if they will leave that kind of mark too. If someone will watch as it finally settles into the docking floor once the deed is done. Only her attention is pulled to Bellamy hitting the Executioner and she has to stop the need to pull him away. To tell him that they will change their minds and kill him too for what he is doing. The thought of Jaha’s daemon ordering  _ guilty _ still rings in her head. 

“ _ Her death is on you, Commander _ .” Bellamy snarls, Hera finally releasing the other man's bird, and Octavia feels something within her pull away as they snap metal cuffs onto her wrist. 

  
  
  
  


In the Sky Box, Octavia is left with nothing except for her soul. They had stripped her of the dress that she had made from hand, forcing her into a showering pod, before forcing clothing onto her.  _ Sky Box clothing _ , she wonders, someone must have worn this before her, and someone will wear it after her once they are executed. The socks and boots will be redistributed, the blue jumpsuit reused, perhaps they will even give away the same shirt if she doesn’t put any holes in it. A smaller part wonders if someone will get her dress too. 

“Move forward.” A guard orders, his baton out and electrofied, though Octavia is more fearful of his german shepard daemon than the man itself. 

Her cell in the Sky Box has a port window, two bunk beds, and a small showering pod. It’s only slightly smaller than the room she used to share with her family, but she doesn’t have a cellmate either. She is almost ready to turn around, to brace herself for the guards brutal force, but she has too many questions. She  _ needs _ too many answers. And the sound of her cell door locking is the only one to fill the room for a long time. 

“Why did you have to go to the party?” Her daemon asks from his perch near the port window. Her soul doesn’t look at her, but instead chooses to look out upon the earth. 

“What do you mean?” She doesn’t understand what he means. He was her  _ soul _ , there was no mystery to his knowledge of everything that was her, yet here he was asking a question. One that seemed to hold such a simple answer. 

“All you ever do is take and take and  _ take _ . We would still be with them if you hadn’t of begged to go. You  _ knew _ that Bellamy would not say no. You  _ knew _ that Persephone saw the danger in it. You  _ knew _ the price for this, so why did you do it?” His form shifts from a hummingbird, something he hasn’t done in the years since he was a butterfly, to the mirrored form a black vulture. “You might as well be honest, Octavia.”

“Because I wanted it, I wanted to live, even if it was for one moment.” It’s true and the pain that strikes her from her soul _ pulling _ away from her makes her cringe back. 

“Do you know what having a black vulture for a daemon means, Octavia? It means that you are one to locate death and feed itself from it. You embrace and truly understand the meaning of death. You _ know _ that the death of one means the life of another. So tell me, was you wanting to live worth the death of our family?” 

Octavia feels the warm tears threaten to run, “ _ How dare you. _ ” She lunges for him, she wants to cause him _ pain _ , but the only one she seems to hurt herself in the process. 

“How dare I? Do you even know our names? Why my dear Octavia, I am  _ Zeus _ , fitting isn’t it?” 

Later that night the guards come in,  _ noise complaints _ , one states as she is hit with a baton, and she bites her tongue to stop from saying that there is no one who can complain in the Sky Box. They’re all prisoners after all. 

  
  
  
  


_ Bellamy comes to visit her once. He tells her of how Persephone is doing, of how he no longer is a cadet, of how he will get them out of here one day.  _

_ Octavia tells him that her soul finally told her his name. Zeus.  _

_ Bellamy tells her that it makes since for their souls to be siblings. He tells her that it is fitting.  _

_ Octavia tries not to release the strangled cry that threatens to come up. _

  
  
  
  


On the way to the ground, Zeus shifts from a black vulture back to the small hummingbird that he had used to be, clinging to her as they descend from the sky. Octavia screams with the other delinquents with her heart sitting in her throat. 

In the dropship, she embraces her twin and brother, feeling finally at peace for the first time since they had been pulled away from each other. Zeus pulls away from Octavia only to cling himself to the figures of Hera and Hades. 

On the ground, Octavia watches as Zeus takes a new form, “ _ I intend to speak of forms changed into new entities. _ ” She whispers as he looked upon her with large emerald eyes. A regal large tiger, the biggest daemon she had ever seen, that mirrored her siblings own. 

“Fabian Shapur.” Is the first thing that he tells her as the delinquents swarm around them like ocean waves hitting the rocks marking a beach.  _ I don’t understand _ , she thinks as he gets closer to her, and she almost feels afraid of herself.

“My name.” Is all he says before his gaze falls upon the other criminals around them. Octavia remembers the tales of Fabian, the Roman statesman and general, who wore down his enemies before defeating them. One whose tale was even spoken within the House of Hades. But it takes her longer to recount on Shapur. The King of Kings in Iran, but what had he done? 

“Why he killed Emperor Valerian.” Her daemon states as their siblings walk towards them. 

Octavia tries not to show the chill that runs down her spine. 

  
  
  
  


When Atom asks her if she is crazy a part of her wants to give in to it. To embrace the power that comes with being a complete anomaly to everyone else. Only Atom’s daemon Iris seems to beat him to it, “It’s because you were loved.” The little lamb states. 

_ You were loved--were--loved,  _ it feels like a slap to the face. She can feel Fabian sturr beside her, a growl forming deep within him, and Octavia thinks of how easy it would be to crush Atom’s daemon beneath her jaws. 

“Want to get out of here?” Octavia ask back, if not for the freedom, then for the thrill that fills her at the prospect of being alone with Atom and his little Iris. It’s predatory and powerful, and Octavia loves the feeling that it gives to her when he says yes. 

He takes her to an area of trees filled with glowing butterflies and Octavia thinks that it is the most beautiful thing she has seen down here. Even Fabian seems to enjoy it with the little lamb sitting next to him. And Octavia feels  _ alive _ when Atom kisses her beneath the towering trees and glowing butterflies that swarm their very souls. 

  
  
  
  


Two days pass, Octavia tries not to cry when her brother and Clarke bring back Atom’s broken and bleeding body that is covered in golden dust. 

Fabian only seems to watch solemnly as she pulls Atom’s bracelet of black beads off of him to put on her own wrist. Her lips bloodied from the final kiss that she had placed on him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Daemon List: 
> 
> Octavia Blake | Zeus, Fabian Shapur | Butterfly, Hummingbird, Black Vulture, Tiger
> 
> Atom | Iris | Lamb


	4. Persephone

“_ But something else was needed, a finer being, more capable of mind, a sage, a ruler. So Man was born, it may be, in a God’s image. Or Earth, perhaps, so newly separated. From the old fire of the titans, still retained, some seed of celestial force which fashioned Gods out of living clay and running water. All other animals look downward, man alone can raise his face towards the heavens. _” 

Persephone remembered Ovid well, it had been one of their favorites for Bellamy to tell when they had begun to read from the Roman period. Though she had only imagined what the Earth must have been like then. Now when she felt the dirt beneath her boots and could hear the sound of water in the distance she finally understood what Ovid had meant. For surely _ this _ was divinity created by a celestial force if such a thing ever existed. 

“Are you going to stare at the ground all day?” The delinquent beside her asked and she remembered sitting next to him on the Dropship. His sardonic humor had kept her calm until they had hit the atmosphere though the Siamese cat daemon that had been sitting in his lap was gone. 

“I see your daemon chose to re-shift as a larger cat as well.” The delinquent stated, shifting the conversation to stare upon Hades new form. She wasn’t sure if he had settled on a name for it, though he would always be Hades, it was Ark tradition to always change until you held a sanctioned job. Not that _ that _ would ever happen now that they had been disposed of. 

“I see you were once an Engineer, or did that jumpsuit belong to the one who died before you?” The delinquents’ smirk turned into a grin as he stretched his hand out to her.

“I am the only one changing the conversation here, but I _ was _ the best engineer on the Ark or so Jake Griffin told me once I bested him at thirteen. The name is Jason Lightbourne, and this is my daemon Ixchel or at least she _ was _ Ixchel.” He motioned behind him, his Siamese cat replaced by a jaguar with golden eyes. “It’s Aphrodite.” His daemon spoke, curling her tail around the black cloth of his legs. 

“Are we betting that Raven and Itzamna will match if she ever comes down?” Jason asked his daemon, but his souls only response was a loud purring noise. 

“You have someone waiting for you?” Persephone asked, wondering if things had been different would they be waiting for Bellamy to return to them.

“Unfortunately if she ever does come down Spacewalker over there will be the only place for her.” _ Spacewalker _, she had heard of the one who had wasted three months of oxygen for an illegal spacewalk. Would it have been worth it? To float amongst the stars at the cost of death? She remembered seeing Octavia land her eyes onto the shaggy headed boy as they walked away from the ship. Hopefully he wouldn’t find himself cornered by two angry Blakes if he tries anything. 

“But let us not dwell on the past,” Jason was dramatic, flaring his gait as he stepped towards her, “I hear that alliances are already forming, and down here I intend to rise. May I join you and your _ brother _?” He asked and it was only then that she noticed Bellamy watching them. 

  
  
  
  


On her last night in space Persephone is curled tightly beneath her thin blankets, clutching Hades against her chest in his Somali cat form, and she can feel Roma pressing her back against her own. They had taken to sharing a bed ever since Persephone was placed within the older delinquents cell. 

Roma’s cat daemon, an Egyptian Mau named Osiris, had been worried about them at first. Roma didn’t trust them and neither did Osiris. Persephone was an anomaly for being an illegal child, and Hades was a harbinger of death in every daemon book. They had even fought once, Roma had called her a freak, and she had reached up to hit the girl only to find Roma pinning her down. It had been a miracle that the guards had not heard them, let alone come running into their cell to beat them for doing what they were doing. Persephone had even braced herself against the metal floor in preparation for the punch that Roma would send to her only the girl had kissed her instead, and Persephone’s soul changed for the first time since it’s first naming. They had become steadfast friends and even more fierce lovers. Hades had stopped taking carrion forms to instead take the much softer form of a Somali cat whose red fur and light green eyes seemed to coexist with Roma’s own. Roma was loyal and protective, and Persephone wondered if this was how her namesake felt during the winter months. Though Roma had not trusted her completely, and their earlier months together was spent in mutual silence and rough intimacy. 

“I wish I could draw you, to write you down in a book worthy of Andromeda herself.” Persephone had told her on their last night. She had heard whispers that something was going to be done in the Sky Box. She feared that she would never see Roma again. That she would never feel her assistive touch or listen to her sing. 

“If we get floated tomorrow, I want you to know that your the only person that I’ve ever loved.” Roma tells her, turning to face her, and she can feel Osiris rub against Hades. 

“Even the nurses son from Tesla? The one with the baby face?”

“Even him, _ Proserpina _.” Roma had told her wrapping her arms around her. It was a very lonely thing to know that you were going to die even as you slept next to a loved one. Persephone had known that feeling for a long time.

  
  
  
  


They find each other on the ground in a haze of swear words, mud, and hidden underground bunkers. Osiris is no longer a domesticated Egyptian cat whose fur matched the stars, but instead he is long and slim. A cheetah with soulful amber eyes. _ Maahes _, Roma whispers, running her hand through golden fur as she pulls Persephone deeper into the woods. 

On her second day on the ground, Roma had found her when her brother named her as his Commander, his _ Legatus _, as their first rain began to fall upon them. 

“_ Whatever the hell we want! _” Bellamy commands and the delinquents mimic him like mortals chanting a prayer to the Gods.

Wells looks terrified, overwhelmed, his snake daemon curling around his neck. She knows when she looks at Bellamy that they are thinking the same thing. Of how Athena turned Medusa into a monster, casting her out to her eventual death by the hands of Perseus. Wasn’t it fitting that Well’s father do the same to him? Only there was no Perseus, only ninety-six criminals chanting the downfall of the Ark’s system around him. 

On the third day, she had named Jason and Roma her Generals, allowing them to take Lieutenants if they could find a delinquent worthy. She needs to protect Octavia from the Grounders is what she tells herself when Wells demands to know what they would need an archaic military structure for. Octavia scoffs from her place next to the campfire and Persephone tries not to notice when she sneaks off with Atom. She tries not to _ care _, tells herself that there are more important things to be done to ensure her sisters life, so she orders Jason to find the few students he has left that had made the journey to the ground. 

“We will need an army if the Grounders start a war.” Is what Aurelius Augustus says beside her, and although she loves his new form she almost misses calling him solely Hades. 

On the fourth day, they discover a bunker together, tucked beneath the brittled metal remains of a car. Bellamy had tried to take Roma hunting, but Persephone had whisked her away. She didn’t need to let Bellamy know of Roma or the Sky Box. Not that she was ashamed, but Bellamy was protective and he would ensure that she didn’t let feelings consume her the way they did Octavia when Atom was brought back dead. 

“I remember reading about these in Earth Skills.” Roma tells her as they step down the ladder. They have a few matches from a small box that Roma had found in the Dropship and Persephone whispers a prayer to Prometheus for defying the Gods. 

“This looks like it belonged to a soldier, but it isn’t military. Pike said there would be military writing on military bunkers.” Roma explains pulling out dust covered lanterns. They are a mixture of plastic and metal, not resembling the ones from the history books, but not pre-bomb era either. “_ Be careful! _” Maahes whispers down from above, both large cats poking their heads down the entrance of the bunker. 

“Do you see this?” Persephone ask once the lit lantern fills the bunker with light. There are _ weapons _ stacked against the walls. Holsters untouched by time gestured by a thick layer of dust that coats them. “Whoever was here must have collected them. We should claim them before any others find what is down here.” If the others knew then there would be fights over who gets to sit in the bunker let alone who gets what is in it. 

“Good thing our host here left us his bag.” Roma says and it is only then that she notices the skeleton leaning into the corner. It is dressed in the Old Earth clothing of a soldier with a military backpack sitting next to him. His name tag reads _ O’Brian, Smith _, and she hopes that wherever his soul is now that he has been blessed with a peaceful afterlife. 

“Let’s take what we can and go before nightfall arrives.” It is easier said than done as Roma dust off the backpack. Persephone takes the weapons, a watch sitting upon the desk, and a cloth crimson pashmina that was tucked within what looked to be a woman’s belongings. Roma hands her a leather bound book, a jar of pencils and charcoal sitting in her other hand, and Persephone is careful on not dropping them as she places them within the bag. She has never seen a writing utensil before, not a _ traditional _ one at least, since the only thing the Ark used as pens with recycled ink. But it isn’t the materialistic things they found that leaves Persephone on a high as much as it is Roma’s smile when they return back to her tent at camp.

  
  
  
  


She tries not to cry the next day when Bellamy brings back Roma’s body. _ We couldn’t get the body of the other one _ , is what he tells Clarke, but Persephone doesn’t _ care _ about the other boy. All she can think of is the stab mark in Roma’s heart and that her boots are covered in golden dust. 

“You couldn’t find Octavia?” She asked, feeling her heart crush, because she can’t lose _ everyone _. 

_ But you already are _, Aurelius gives her with one look.

“I’ll bury her.” Persephone tells him, volunteers, brushing off the other delinquents that wish to help. She only allows Jason to join her once the deed is done. Only she can’t force herself to stay looking upon the mound of a grave for long before she drags herself back into her empty tent. She _ sobs _ , wishing that she could scream, as she tries to wipe Roma’s blood off of her hands. Roma’s sword and dagger lay where she had last left them, and Persephone tries not to curse herself for not insisting on her lover to take it. The book that is three pages filled with sketches of Roma and the two forms of her soul lay untouched on their bed. She had planned on showing her when she returned. It was a cheesy plan, a _stupid _plan to get too close, and when Aurelius presses his head against her own she knows that he feels this pain too. 

  
  
  
  


On her fifth day on the ground, Persephone emerges from her tent with her sword against her back and daggers on her belt, the red cloth hooded against her, and when she feels Roma’s sword weighing heavily upon her hands she hopes that Roma can forgive her for what she plans to do with it. 

Though as Aurelius looks upon her with his large emerald eyes, she knows that the tiger doubts they will find forgiveness this soon, even when she deems what remains of Roma as official property to the line of _ Legatus _ that will follow her. 

She is going to get her sister back, she is going to make sure that Roma didn’t die for nothing, and when she looks at Bellamy she knows that they are ready for war. Even if Clarke tries to stop them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Following this chapter is where the story will kick off the rest of the events of season one under mainly Clarke and Bellamy's point of view, with Octavia and Persephone having their own chapters, while moving around with the other characters who did not have individual chapters so far. This is also canon divergence to the outcome of Unity Day and the rest of the series as a whole. I am setting up for there being political, social, and cultural clashing with the 100 and the Grounders because that is always fun to work with in this series and you can do alot with daemons. 
> 
> To address the tags, since that needs to be cleared up some:  
\- The Blake siblings do have an odd relationship, but I wanted to use the idea that no one on the Ark knows of how a sibling relationship should be viewed outside of the Blake's own highly protective and deep connection. Clarke and Finn are going to be platonic, if not one-sided, with Finn holding interest in Clarke and Apollodorus holding a disturbing interest in Daphne, but it is not going to lead to a romantic pairing between the two. Bellarke and Bellarke + Anya (not really sure what that ship name would be) is going to happen, but it will be a decent slow burn because these characters all have their demons to deal with. As for the rest of the pairing tags, they will eventually happen, or come to pass. Some will not even be posted because otherwise I will go crazy on tagging and this story will end up with a really long tag list. (P.S You're damn right that I am giving Raven a ship with happiness)
> 
> The Delinquents Social System:  
\- I always wondered why Bellamy didn't fashion any of his military structure after anything from history, but the show certainly moved fast and away from the Drop-ship (and that ruling dynamic) after season one. Essentially Bellamy Blake is a very cunning historian and there is no way that he wouldn't want to set up a system that he would be able to lean to history to guide on. Using Octavia, with the addition of Persephone, I do plan on giving Bellamy a more thought out plan on how the delinquents little society will be set up by the time they attempt to make peace with the Grounders. And although I made Persephone the Commander/Legatus, I do have bigger plans for Octavia's role within this society because many season one fics have her either being a healer with Clarke or a warrior when no one has considered a third option that would fit the Blake family style.


	5. Plerique Part I

_ Daemons are their humans...and humans are their daemons _

  
  
  
  


Juniper tells him that it is going to be a bad idea before they do it. In retrospective, Monty _ knew _ that it was going to be a bad idea from the moment that he met Wick and his arachnid daemon. There was even a brief moment where Mazus had agreed with him, but Jasper had _ assured _ them that it would be a simple job. That no one would even notice the plants that they would be taking and that the data from Argo’s system shows that the supply wouldn’t even go noticed once missing. And the opportunity of gaining more credits to help them with their project needed for their final assessment test was too great. 

  
  
  
  


_ His interrogation last for what feels like a matter of hours with Juniper being held away from him. _

_ His trial last even less when both him and Jasper are deemed guilty _.

  
  
  
  


In the Sky Box, Monty shares his cell with a guards son and his German Shepard daemon. His cellmate is stoic, quiet even aside from the sharp looks that he sends to Monty and Juniper when they can’t sleep, and Monty is sure for the longest that his cellmate simply doesn’t like him. 

  
  
  


_ In their daemon psychology course they are taught three things: _

_ One. You never touch someone's daemon. You never directly speak to someone’s daemon. Their soul must interact with you first. _

  
  
  


That is until the day that the guards burst into their cell. Monty had heard the rumors from Factory that the guards would abuse the delinquents locked away within the Sky Box, but he had never expected that the rumors would be true. That he would be lying on the cool cell floor with black spots filling his vision and the sound of Juniper’s scream in his ears. His cellmate had been gone at the time and Monty is almost thankful because at least _ someone _ was spared. Monty doesn’t even expect to find his cellmate sitting next to him when he wakes up-- _ in his bed, not the floor _\--

Yet Juniper is speaking to him or _ them, _ and something deep within him tells him that this is _ wrong _. That his very soul shouldn’t be speaking to someone like this. 

“Good. You’re awake.” His cellmate seems to slip back on his stoic demeanor like a mask. His daemon dropping down into a crouch with its ears pressed back. “You won’t have to worry about them ever again.” 

His tone is serious, as hard as stone and as cold as ice, or so Monty imagines. His words coming out as a strict vow. A promise. 

“I’m Miller by the way. Nathan Miller, and this is Nalini.” Miller holds out his hand, the formal introduction that someone born on Alpha station would use. 

“I’m Monty and this is Juniper.” He shakes the delinquents hand. Remembering all of the punctuality lessons that his mother would teach him for the day when he would need to communicate with those of higher status than him. His mother had also planned on him becoming head of Argo too.

“I know.” Miller responds with a smirk on his face. 

  
  
  
  
  


_ Two. In Old Earth, a daemon of a child could take many forms, both real and imaginary. _

  
  
  
  


When Monty is seven his daemon shifts from a rabbit to a mink before becoming something entirely _ unnatural _. 

The head of a serpent, the body of a deer, the tail of an oxe. Antlers sprout from its head. Flames come from its mouth. Monty is scared, engrossed, and exhilarated all at once. His parents less so when they find the two sitting within their small living quarters. They argue in the sitting room, hushed whispers, but Monty can hear enough to feel dread bloom in him. 

_ This is unnatural-- _

_ The books say that a child’s daemon can take forms that are not real-- _

_ Those are history books-- _

_ They will float him-- _

They tell him to shift into something _ real _ , something small, something unassuming, and when he doesn’t his mother grabs his daemon. It’s _ painful _, ripping away at his very being, his father pulling him into another room until the separation becomes too much. And what little that Monty remembers after that is having his daemon in his arms and her first name forms into his mind as she goes back to being a mink the colour of chocolate. 

  
  
  
  
  


_ Three. The forms your daemon took reflect your very soul. There was no hiding who you truly are. _

  
  
  
  


Monty knew from his daemon class that having a mink daemon was supposed to mean that he was a troublemaker and a trickster. Though some books stated that minks were considered good luck. He likes to think that they are the latter when the guards shove him and Miller into a dropship. There are easier ways to die on the Ark as there is only one absolute way to die. _ This certainly wasn’t it _, Monty thought as he was strapped into a seat between Jasper and Miller. Jasper is clutching Mazus, the flying squirrel clinging to his chest, and his best friend is avid about catching up. Nervous and fidgeting aside Monty felt thrill run through him at getting to see Jasper one last time because if they do die then at least Miller dies between the only two people that he has ever held fondness for. 

It helps that Miller has taken his hand in the crevice between their seats. 

  
  
  
  


Earth is _ different _ than how the books had described, but it’s so much _ better _ than he could have ever imagined. Juniper shifts into a small golden-orange monkey with a mane and she _ laughs _ as she jumps from Monty to the bark of the trees. 

“_ Monty look! _ ” Juniper exclaims as she climbs onto a branch. Her gaze falling to something behind him and it’s _ Miller _. 

His cellmate looks at him with a smile of pure euphoria, Nalini no longer in the form of a guards daemon, but of a wolf. Golden, russet, and beautiful. Monty nearly stumbles to him as the green foliage is stark in comparison to the metal floors of the Ark. But Miller catches him, Juniper jumping to his shoulder, “Does this mean we get to name our second forms?” She asks and Miller _ laughs _.

Monty knows the four components that activate a brain’s happiness: dopamine, oxytocin, serotonin, and endorphins. Miller seems to ignite them all when his hands cup Monty’s face, _ kissing him _ , and it is this that makes him think that Miller taste like _ joy _ . And joy tasted _ better _ on Earth than it had in their compact metal cell. 

“Yaoji.” Miller tells him, “You should name her Yaoji. My neighbor used to tell me stories when watching me as a child. Those of a Goddess who a King encountered on a hill. A goddess who descended to the earth and created plants to be used for healing.” 

Monty pauses, he had never been good at history, but the Ark had been intransigent about naming a daemon after anything that wasn’t connected to the Earth.

“Shiva.” Monty tells him, pulling away as Jasper began to walk towards him. Miller followed his gaze, but his smile didn’t seem to falter. “Then Shiva and I will be waiting for you. Don’t get lost. Promise?”

“Promise.”

  
  
  


_ How can you know your daemon when you don’t even know yourself? _

  
  
  


His mother, Cora Lightbourne, had been a major in the guard and his father, Henry Steele, had been the first assistant engineer to Jake Griffin. His mother’s daemon had been a dobermann pinscher and his father’s daemon had been a caracal. That was the only thing that he knew about his parents really. Their name, position, and what they settled as. Perhaps that was why he wanted to punch Finn Collins in the face for calling him _ bad luck _ when Raven was missing a parent too. 

Though Jason wasn’t an _ idiot _ , he knew very well that Finn only called him bad luck because of his daemon being a cat. Mecha superstition dictated that to have a cat form for a soul was bad luck after all, and his argument that his father had one was always backed with Finn snarking that _ of course, your father is dead, isn’t he _? Because it seemed that the position of first assistant engineer simply wasn’t enough for the two of them to already be holding a grudge against each other for. Jason was strict in the knowledge that both engineers were out to hold Raven Reyes heart even if it got them floated. 

Ixchel only seemed to hiss at that before Raven emerged from her living quarters. 

“Can you two never stop fighting each other?” It’s meant to be a serious question, but Raven cannot help the grin that forms on her face and Itzamna laughs at them both. 

“Worst case scenario after today is that Collins gets to be a level below me. Oh wait that is the_ best _ outcome.” Jason is petty, circling his arm around Raven’s waist, blue eyes narrowing at Finn. He was sure that Ixchel could take Daphne and her little beagle form if push came to shove. 

“Knock it off! I believe that both of you will do great and whichever one gains the internship should be_ polite _ to the other.” 

“Since when are we polite?”

  
  
  
  


Jason scrubs the dried blood from his knuckles with what little time that Major Bryne is giving him. The blonde guards-woman had made his imprisonment into his own personal hell if such a thing could be possible with her snappy little coyote daemon. 

“I must say it ended well with your mother being floated. She was in line to be the next Commander, but now that position is solely mine once I get Shumway out of the way.” Jason wants to remark on her antagonistic dialogue that sounds far too cheesy, but she is _ probing _ for that kind of reaction. “You couldn’t even fill your father’s position for long. Jake Griffin be damned you just had to become a criminal.”

“Are you always this much of a bitch to the other delinquents or is that just saved up for me?” Jason can’t _ take _ it for too long. Ixchel changes from her normal house-cat form into something far bigger, and Major Bryne’s daemon flings itself back in an attempt to get away. 

_ It is nothing more than a rough fight with teeth and claws. Jason feels angry and his soul looks angered. _

Commander Kane is the one to find them, his crow daemon Rhea watching them with an intense interest, but he breaks them up nonetheless. 

“You know this will be added to your record?” It comes out as more of a statement than a question. Jason almost wants to tell him that no one survives trial anyways so what would the point be in adding one more infraction. Only there is something twisting from within him. _ Crushing _, weighing down on his shoulders, because no one ever speaks of how violent the fall is on the Ark when you lose your position. 

“She deserved it.” Ixchel tells him, her cold blue eyes never removing themselves from Kane.

The man appears disappointed as he pulls out the metal guard cuffs, and for a moment he almost appears saddened when Jason places his wrist in them without a second thought. 

  
  
  
  
  


_ “Do you know who Ixchel is?” _

_ “It’s just the name we chose. I don’t know why.” _

_ “Ixchel, the Goddess of the moon, was the wife of Itzamna, the God of creation, who lived in the skies.” Raven is grinning at him as they look down upon the moon and the earth. Their daemons watching from beside them. It’s peaceful--perfect-- _

_ “Is this your way of asking to marry me, Reyes?” He asks, the wisp of a quote on his lips, but kissing her in that moment seems far better than attempting to be poetic. And when they pull away Raven smiles before leaning against the railing. “My father told me that Ixchel left Itzamna, so why would I marry you just for you to leave?” _

_ “You’re forgetting, once married, our beliefs hold that we be bound even into the next life.” He says more softly, leaning his head against hers, in a moment that is purely held by the solace that the two found in each other. _

_ “Some say the world will end in fire. Some say ice. From what I’ve tasted of desire. I hold with those who favour fire. But if I had to perish twice, I think I know enough of hate, to say that for destruction, Ice is also great and would suffice.” _

_ “The world already ended once in fire.” _

_ “It’s why this is our poem. If Finn gets to give you a bird necklace to symbolize what you have, then this is ours.” _

_ Jason gives her the book of Robert Frost poetry that had belonged to his parents before they part ways. He knows that Finn will be waiting for her. He knows that his own world will end with ice in his heart. But if Jason was religious or spiritual he would admit that this moment-- this is what he would want to find upon the next shore. _

  
  
  


_ “You both are far too dramatic.” Ixchel tells him later on when they are alone. Hunched over their notes. _

_ “And you’re not?” _

  
  
  
  


Their first few days on the ground is scattered with mesmerizing reality, fevered hope, and the plague of death. Jason can count the chaos on one hand-- Jasper getting speared, Charlotte murdering Glass and killing herself, Octavia being abducted, Bellamy returning to camp with a dead Roma in his arms. There are many facets in-between, moments that he is sure will alter the course of how these events will play out, but he is positive in his own survival. Engineer. Criminal. _ General _ . He creates a name for himself once his crimes start floating in the gossip that plagues the camp during the nights around the fire. The thief on the Ark who had twenty students from various stations forming a syndicate of theft. The thief who had once held such promise, who could have climbed high in status only to hall, but he had climbed again hadn’t he? Bellamy trusted him and his abilities. Persephone had given him a position in her _ legion _ as the Blake’s had begun to call it. The only mark against his leger was the knowledge that out of his twenty students who had trusted him, who had survived stealing because of him, only three were left. 

It didn’t help that Finn was spreading words of distrust his way. His daemon, the red doe, who still held the name of Daphne in this form, would be such an easy target for Aphrodite to destroy. 

“Do you wonder if Raven will take another form down here?” _ Do you think we will still be bound _ remains unsaid as Aphrodite lands her emerald eyes upon the doe and the hyena. Jason followed her gaze, remarking Clarke with the knowledge that there was something _ off _ about her, before he dropped his hand to run through Aphrodite’s golden spotted coat. 

“I’d like to believe so. Do you know why Clarke Griffin hasn’t shifted any since being down here? I didn’t think that she would qualify for a final settling.” The tree he leans against rustles as the wind begins to pick up. The smell of the air seems to change as the clouds begin to darken above the camp. The search party for Octavia would be reforming soon. 

Persephone would expect him to be at her side. 

“Souls can’t just read other souls, but I would advise that we both stay away from her. Agreed?”

  
  
  
  


At midday another dropship hits the atmosphere with the delinquents looking up to the sky. 

The search party for Octavia hasn’t left yet, but Clarke and Finn had disappeared from site so perhaps they had gone looking beforehand. Idiotically, without weapons, but at least they are trying if doing anything at all. Bellamy is the first to leave camp after whatever was on that ship and when Persephone orders Miller to watch the Camp in her place Jason follows. 

He wasn’t sure what would be on the dropship. Perhaps supplies, a few rations, a few electronics, a few blankets to spare. The Ark was very strict on giving out such things, so if anything like that did fall then that was probably done for those landing with the Exodus. If it wasn’t the Exodus itself that landed. Though judging by the earthborns, the _ grounders _, war would be brewing towards the delinquents no matter if it came from the earth or the sky. 

However, the one thing he doesn’t expect to find in that small meadow is Finn and Clarke, and _ Raven _. Raven who strips from her spacesuit and is mesmerized by the earth. That same smile all too familiar. Only he doesn’t know whose heart breaks more once Raven looks away from the sky and walks straight into Finn’s embrace. For all the distrust that he gives to Clarke, he knows that their souls are all the same once he notices the hardcover book with frayed edges. Apollodorus and Aphrodite, ears pinned back, heartache written in the walls of their humans. A Greek tragedy in the making. 

  
  
  
  
  


As night falls and the storm begins to form above them, they find Octavia within a hole beneath the Earth, and the delinquents vision is filled with the colour of Finn’s blood running through their fingers as they carry him back to the Dropship. The delinquents who remained at camp part in waves upon seeing the Grounder that Bellamy is dragging back and Jason remarks that Clarke looks like a vision of death against the onset of the storm. 

“_ What happened? _” She asks, frantic and scrambling, her daemon seemingly more concerned about the limp doe than the rain that begins to fall on them. 

“The Grounder stabbed Finn. I’m going to interrogate him, you just--try to save Spacewalker.” Bellamy appears lost for words, motioning for Finn to be handed over into Clarke’s command, and when the opportunity comes Jason decides to remain as a guard on the first level just in case something happens. He doesn’t like Finn, never has and never will, because Spacewalker is _ selfish _ and a _ hypocrite _ and he somehow got Raven in the end. Only does he still have her when he is dragging Clarke along? Is it too early into pre-surgery to ask if Raven _ knows _ , but then again the Ark is going to die anyways. Finn simply cut his loses early. And as for Clarke, the blonde almost appears frustrated, her daemon going on about how Raven needs to get the radio to work, otherwise Finn will die and it will be on _ her _.

_ And here I thought you gave me a hard time _, Jason wanted to recall, but it’s much easier to pull Raven away from the makeshift operating table than to confront his own soul. 

They are both soaked by rain, fire and ice, their souls mirroring each other. They sit huddled in the corner over the radio. It was the only way that Jason could get her away from Finn and he wants to tell her that she is wasting her time. That she might save Finn tonight, but she wouldn’t be able to save their relationship. Only Jason isn’t that cold and they both find comfort in knowing that Itzamna has renamed himself from the moment he shifted for the first time on the ground. 

  
  
  


_ Raven had embraced Jason second handedly and Hephaestus had been brought into creation. _

  
  
  


“You never visited me in the Sky Box.” It’s petty, Jason is petty, but he needs Raven to speak to him. To say something that doesn’t involve the radio and Finn, and Abby Griffin and _ Finn _. 

“Now is not the time Jason.” She says, her tone sharp and fiery, a memory that transitioned into the present. 

“Will there ever be time now.” It’s a statement, not a question, and Hephaestus shows more pain than Raven. Shifting between a raven and a jaguar within the small space. Back and forth. Push and pull. The delinquents seeking shelter only seem to get frazzled by the occurrence happening in such a small place. 

And if it wasn’t for Persephone marching in with the storm growing behind her he doesn’t think it would ever end until a resolution was made. Then it finally seems to come to a clashing point again. Clarke is stern and moving, meeting head-on, Apollodorus snapping at Aurelius Augustus, as Persephone orders everyone to _ calm down or else _ . Jason would liken it to an avalanche and an earthquake hitting the rapid force of wildfires and hurricanes and _ tsunamis _. 

  
  
  


Blake's and Griffins seem to clash like natural disasters with Raven being the world ending event. 

  
  
  


Jason just tries to hold his breath. 


	6. Plerique Part II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: The Murphy portion of this chapter got dark, so this is the warning that the chapter will contain disturbing content that may unsettle some.

Octavia learns of Philotes, the Goddess of affection, when the grounder takes her-- _ saves her, abducts her _ \--

She doesn’t do well in confinement, none of the delinquents do now that they have tasted freedom, and she is  _ scared _ . Terrified when the grounder returns only to stick a heated blade against the cut in her leg. Her daemon shifting from vulture to hummingbird to butterfly, attempting to get away, and Octavia wants to scream at Zeus for not being  _ strong _ . For not being Fabian when she needs to  _ fight _ . 

And when she awakens she feels as if she is Persephone having been dragged into the Underworld. The grounder had taken her, dragged her back every time she had attempted to escape, yet he had fixed her leg. He was offering affection in some disturbing way that included chaining her within the depths of the earth. 

_ And in some fucked up way Octavia doesn't mind it _ . 

  
  
  
  


_ Bellamy lets them out once when their mother is gone.  _

_ Since he is a cadet he knows when the inspections come and when the guard is being rotated around the stations. He offers them a ten minute interval to step outside. To see the Ark, to see what lies outside of their small living quarters, and the anxiety that feels her is so high that she almost wants to back out. Only there is no backing out once Persephone is out the door and her daemon follows.  _

  
  
  


_ Ten minutes to walk down the halls. Ten minutes to see their station. Ten minutes to be a normal citizen. _

_ They instead spend it looking out of the large bay window.  _

_ “I’ll remember this view forever.” Persephone says, in complete awe of the radioactive Earth that they have only heard about from stories and books. _

  
  
  
  


_ Octavia spends the last five minutes staring at her twins amazement of it all.  _

  
  
  
  


The grounder shows her Pothos, the God of yearning, in a spare moment that they have when Bellamy is done torturing him--

The storm has settled outside enough for Octavia to travel with a metal makeshift bowl and cloth. The river has risen, giving itself a new shore, and Octavia tries to ignore the way that Fabian watches her. The last thing she needs is her soul condemning her for the harsh treatment she had given her brother and the grating words she had exchanged with her sister.  _ They wouldn’t understand _ , is what she tells him when he shifts back into a form of Zeus to follow her up into the second level of the drop ship.

The grounder is bruised, bleeding even, but Octavia can feel his heart beat beneath his chest. She can feel his lungs rise with air. He is so  _ alive _ without a daemon in sight. Octavia wonders what it must be like to not have to live with yourself, but perhaps he does have a daemon. Hidden somewhere deep within the woods and the earth where no delinquent can touch it. 

_ Either way, Octavia can’t get the thought out of her head, a world with no soul to judge her-- _

  
  
  
  


_ In the Sky Box, Octavia yearns for human contact that doesn’t come from a guard, and one day she gets it.  _

_ Her cellmate is some wealthy girl from Alpha station that had an unauthorized pregnancy. She introduces herself as Glass Sorenson, as if that is meant to mean something to Octavia, and her daemon is some frilly long haired dog that looks far too proper for any daemon she has seen before. At first though Octavia can overlook those things. She can ignore Zeus looking at her daemon as if it is a pest. She can ignore the way that Glass complains about the portion size of her rations and water while Octavia scarfs her own down. What she can’t ignore is the fact that Glass keeps telling her of some boy named Luke. Of how she did this for love, of how Luke and her could have been sanctioned to marry, of how she might actually survive trial because of how high in power her father had been. That surely he wouldn’t let her die simply because of a petty divorce.  _

_ Octavia can ignore these things. She was the one who wanted a cellmate in the first place and beggars can't be choosers. _

_ Only as the months roll by, as Glass pregnancy shows, her cellmate switches their daily topics onto her child. Of how her child is an illegal child. Of how her child wouldn’t be a sanctioned birth. Of how she believes she will be spared because the Ark can’t kill a mother for having a child. _

_ Octavia can even tune out the screams when Zeus begins to peck away at her daemons eyes. _

  
  
  


_ She doesn’t know what happened to Glass. The guards removed her and threw Octavia into solitary. Not that Octavia cared once she got what she yearned to have--- _

  
  
  
  


In Lincoln’s cave, surrounded by the glow of the fire, Octavia list off the names of the Gods beneath fated breath. Hedone, Aphrodite, Eos, Eros, Himeros, Priapus, and Anteros. She chants their names like a prayer as Lincoln laid her down into soft furs. He doesn’t know what she is saying, but those things don’t matter in that moment. Not when he pauses, looking at her with this warm spark in his eyes, “Would you like to see us?”

And for a moment Octavia forgets how to breathe. Feeling Fabian shift into Zeus, a soft hummingbird landing against her collarbone, “ _ Yes _ .”

Lincoln’s soul  _ glows _ , a luminescent butterfly that lands against the knuckles of her hand, and she  _ can’t breathe _ . Fabian could crush him beneath one paw, it would be so  _ easy _ , and Octavia feels fear creep into her very being. 

She doesn’t want Lincoln to ever die. She doesn’t want to  _ live _ in a world without him. And she knows when she meets Fabian’s gaze she knows that those are dangerous thoughts to make. 

  
  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
  
  


_ It went many years, but at last came a knock. And I thought of the door. With no lock to lock.  _

  
  
  
  


When Raven’s father leaves them after one too many drinks her daemon finally seems to pick a series of forms for itself. Mother had bottles stacking away in their table and floor, using their credits on cheap argo liquor instead of meal rations or water tokens, and father is too angry to deal with it. She rarely even sees him anymore because the more mother drinks, the more father has to work, and Raven can’t even speak to her daemon without feeling her mother’s wrath. 

When Raven first meets Finn and Jason next door it finally chooses it’s first name. A whisper that is faint into the night that the two neighbors drag her into. She gets to see sections of Mecha that she had never been down before and they even take her to the edges of Hydra. And it’s nothing more than a wisp of what she could have one day. Of what she could  _ become _ .

_ Itzamna, cats and ravens.  _

Her mother calls her bad luck for having a soul that only seems to respond to bad things and pretty smiles. 

Raven only smiles, brushing it off with the excuse that she needs to go study. That Sinclair would not accept her being late to class again. 

  
  
  


When Raven is fifteen, her father is executed. She doesn’t see it, is only notified because she is his daughter, and she doesn’t have the heart to inform her mother. She would break knowing that she wasn’t allowed to even know of it. She would break knowing that he had died for a small, simple error. Because Raven knew that no matter how shitty their marriage had been her mother still loved her father in some deranged way. 

The hardest part is letting that knowledge consume her. 

She cries to Jason and Finn, Itzamna burying himself into the crook of her jacket, and she  _ mourns _ . Properly and wholey, yet she can’t look at her mother in the eyes in the weeks that follow.

  
  
  
  


_ I blew out the light, I tip-toed the floor, and raised both hands in prayer to the door.  _

  
  
  
  
  


Abby Griffin with her vervet monkey are fucking insane. At least, that is the most logical conclusion when the two show her the hidden dropship pod that lays within the depths of Shenzhen. Telling her that the council has sent one hundred criminals to the ground. That Finn and Jason had been sent down. That the wristbands have appeared to have failed, so the only solution is to send someone else down that is  _ loyal _ . Itzamna’s feathers ruffle at the unfeasible remarks because it’s  _ insane _ and perhaps this makes them insane for agreeing to it.

Raven goes to work, trying to ignore the anxiety that bristles at the back of her neck, and following her nine hour shift she goes into Shenzhen day by day. It doesn’t matter how often she tells Abby that the dropship won’t be ready by the time that she needs it to be. It doesn’t even seem to matter that she could  _ die _ before the landing. 

“We will be killed anyways once the council finds out about this.” Itzamna tells her, flying to land onto the dropship pod. 

“Then let’s make sure that we survive the landing.” 

  
  
  


_ But the knock came again, the window was wide, I climbed on the still, and descended inside.  _

  
  
  


As Raven descends, she recites poetry and the oath that every person on Mecha takes before leaving for work. 

Itzamna clings to her, and when they both hit the atmosphere they scream.

  
  


_ But from over the sill I bade a come in to whoever the knock at the door may have been.  _

  
  


Raven and Itzamna came to earth in a burst of flame.

  
  
  


The earth was filled with vibrant colours that Raven had only seen in old pictures from the Ark and faded tones that resided in the stations. 

  
  


The earth held Finn, his soul changed into the form of a doe, his gaze only leaving her own to land onto Clarke.

  
  


The earth was the feeling of Jason’s tight arms wrapping around her, breathing unsteady, a longing in his embrace.

  
  
  


The earth fell silent as Hephaestus was born.

  
  
  
  


_ So, at a knock, I emptied my cage. To hide from the world. And alter with age. _

  
  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
  
  


Murphy was many things, some others had deemed him, some he simply knew were universal truths about himself, but at the end of it all he was a  _ survivor _ . His soul wasn’t named  _ Fortuna _ for nothing. Though he was sure that she would argue with him on it had it not been for the silent treatment that she seemed intent on giving ever since their banishment. 

  
  
  
  


The first few days are spent running by day and hunkering down at night.

He runs to the south instead of the west where the Grounders had speared Jasper. He only stops for what little water he can find; the river doesn’t seem like a safe thing to get too close to. Then at night he presses himself into the bark of a tree or some days he finds a divet in the ground to lay in. Fortuna remains in his pocket. She is a small frog after all, no amount of lethality can make up for the lack of speed when it comes to running. 

On his sixth day, Murphy is sure that he is going to die from lack of food before he stumbles across the leftover carcass of a deer that had been killed and left out to rot. He tells himself  _ no way, fuck that shit, fuck this _ , but then he hears Fortuna break the silence. 

“We do what we must to survive.” Is all she says before reverting back to her usual silence. Murphy wants to say back something snarky. He wants to yell at his soul, he wants to punch Bellamy Blake in his face, and he wants to poison Clarke Griffin. He wants to lash out at everyone and everything that got him to the point where he even  _ needs _ to be bent over a carcass. He wants to give a loud  _ fuck you _ to whatever cosmic force seemed to dispise him once he began to tear into the thing. 

He can’t eat it at first. His hands are shaking too badly and he feels the few remains of whatever he had left from yesterday's water try to come up. The stench of rot burns away at his senses, so he grabs his nose and just  _ swallows _ . 

The first time doesn’t work, the second and third don’t either, but by the fourth the hunger of having not eaten settles into the pit of his stomach. He eats until he feels like he is going to puke and--

_ Grounders _ . He hears them, sees them when he looks up, and he  _ runs _ . Only he can’t get away because they have him circled and their daemons are all large wolves snapping at him. Then there is the one that he assumes is the leader because his daemon is a large black panther and the others look to him on what to do. The leader looks at Murphy like one would a pest, yet he seems amused, saying something to the others that make them laugh. 

“ _ You are going to be of great use to us, Sky boy. _ ” 

  
  
  
  


They tie him up, feeding him scraps like one would a dog, enough to keep him alive, and then they knock him out.

  
  
  


Murphy awakens in a cage. It’s smaller than his cell in the Sky Box had been. It’s bars covered by red rust, vines growing around it from the cracks in the floor, and Murphy learns of what this cage means. As long as he is in it they keep him alive. They only took him out once to torture him and after one of his torturers had grabbed Fortuna he had died farely quickly. It only took one death though for the grounders to catch on. After that they had thrown him back into his cage, keeping him alive, but only enough to where they can get their information. 

Fortuna tells him to keep his mouth shut. 

Murphy tells them everything anyways. 

He tells them of Bellamy, the Rebel King, with his sisters and their tiger daemons. He tells them of Clarke Griffin, the princess, the only one with medical knowledge within the camp. He tells them of how they are all criminals, banished to die on the ground, and Murphy only stops talking when he gets to his own banishment from them. 

According to the grounders he doesn’t have enough information. It doesn’t take Murphy long to realise that more shit has probably gone down since his banishment. The grounders know more than he does, and they don’t seem impressed. 

“Would you guys happen to have some moonshine or something?”


	7. Terms and Conditions

More often than not, Clarke found Apollo quoting Machiavelli over the piles of homework that was due. Misusing the words, twisting the meaning, in an attempt to make Clarke feel better over the likelihood of them settling in a few years. Later, he recalled on Victor Hugo every time they went over plans with father. Whispering words from _ Les Misérables _ until Clarke finally dropped her medical textbook to pick up the one on a revolution instead. 

They had liked the idea of revolution and insurrection. Of gaining freedom and a voice in places where there was none. Only such things meant death on the Ark. There was no place to run to in space after all if the tide of revolt swept back to drown them. 

The ground was no better for an escape. 

The Chancellor was sending an Exodus ship with soldiers and her mother on board, and with them they would be carrying the  _ Exodus Charter _ . An unsaid truth that seemed to swirl around camp because no one wanted to think of what those rules would mean. There were enough lessons on it in the government class on A.R.K Federation law to give them a depiction of what was to come from it either way. Yet the aspect of  _ Unity Day _ and a cause for celebration had seemed to be enough to ignore their impending loss of freedom. At least, Clarke had thought so until Finn came to her in the middle of her own celebrations.

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


_ “I need to talk to you.” _

  
  


_ “Having fun yet, Princess.” _

  
  


_ “I’m serious.” _

  
  


_ “You always are.” _

  
  


_ “Finn set up a meeting with the Grounders.” _

  
  


_ “Of course he would. Being reckless is his entire personality.” _

* * *

  
  


“ _ They tell us, sir, that we are weak; unable to cope with so formidable an adversary. But when shall we be stronger? Will it be the next week, or the next year? Will it be when we are totally disarmed, and when a British guard shall be stationed in every house? Shall we gather strength by irresolution and inaction? Shall we acquire the means of effectual resistance by lying supinely on our backs and hugging the delusive phantom of hope, until our enemies shall have bound us hand and foot? Sir, we are not weak if we make a proper use of those means which the God of nature hath placed in our power. _ ”

“Now, tell me why these words from Patrick Henry are important.” Samara Lukacevic gave her class a harsh look. Her golden monkey, Vojislav, seemed to only stare with an even more strident glare when the class didn’t answer. 

“You, Mr. Blake, tell me why those words are significant to us today.” Vojislav called out causing the entire class to turn to look at him. Clarke had never really paid any attention in this class. Let alone to the people within it, yet she couldn’t stop herself from staring either at the older student and his daemon. No one on Alpha or go-Sci had a crow for a soul. 

“Because his final words were monumental. They lasted for centuries as a cry of revolution.” Blake cut his gaze from his lap to Lukacevic and then to Clarke.

“And what were those words Mr. Blake. Since you seem to not be able to answer directly.” 

Clarke felt Apollo bite at her hand, a small hiss coming from him, as he bit down harder. She had to look away. Her right hand going to cover up the bite mark that welted with blood. Apollo would remark that she shouldn’t have been staring at his soul like that. Though Clarke would only remark the same words that Blake had told the class for the rest of the day. 

“ _ Give me liberty or give me death _ .”

* * *

When Clarke goes to meet with the grounder leader she has Bellamy at her side. 

The grounder they had tortured--Lincoln--with his vibrant butterfly daemon informed them that their advantages were few despite how vigorous they could be. The Jus Clan had suffered a fever that had wiped out their next generation except for a few. There was a need of population and Lincoln had assured that a higher populous would be needed to ensure the Clans survival. Then there was the aspect of their _ keryons, _ as Lincoln had called them. 

Those of the Jus matched with the animals around them: leaders had predacious cats, warriors had wolves, and those in-between matched the more plentiful wildlife. The 100 fell upon more  _ Old Earth _ standards with their daemons shifting into figures of animals that were either extinct now or no longer on that portion of the Earth. It would give the clan advantage, however, the 100 never appeared to settle outside of Clarke. Not even Bellamy had once his daemon re-shifted upon meeting the Earth’s atmosphere. That would be their field disadvantage if they could even agree to a union between their people. 

_ ‘A keryon that still shifts in one so old is considered a sign of bad luck’ _

  
  
  
  


“What if this doesn’t work?” It is more of a question than a statement as Bellamy takes a step ahead of her. Apollodorus lagging behind, keeping a large paced distance between Bellamy and Claudia Marcella. He feels bare without his gun and axe, and he wants to curse Spacewalker for getting them into this mess to begin with.

“What if it does? Haven’t we given up enough already?” She tries not to think of how the Council will not approve of their treaty, how Commander Kane will never sanction it, and how her own mother will pull her until there is nothing more to control. She tries to not think about the  _ conflict _ that could continue with only a gunshot to set it off.

“Are you truly willing to sacrifice everyone for the sake of peace?” It remains unsaid between them as they finally step foot onto the bridge. Three hundred years of radiation has left the metal rusted and the concrete cracks filled with vines. Apollodorus lets out a sharp laugh as he nips upon her heels to push her forward. 

She doubts she would give herself much of a choice.

  
  
  
  


Clarke tries to not be intimidated by the fierce woman that steps down from her horse and she notices how Bellamy looks to her after seeing Anya’s daemon. Lincoln had said that leaders often had predacious cats. Anya’s daemon, however, was a white stag with antlers that could mount the world.

“You’re name is Clarke. I’m Anya. ” the grounder stated in a demanding tone, her gaze falling onto Bellamy. “I was informed that I would be meeting with  _ only _ the leader of the sky people.” 

“We are the leaders. We lead together.” Bellamy explains, holding the grounders intense gaze. “We would like to discuss a truce. An end to all of this fighting to bring our people together.” 

“I understand. You started a war that you don’t know how to end. One you know you can’t end by victory, however, Lincoln has spoken for you. You tortured him and now he has placed himself in line for your sake. So consider this an act of good faith.” Anya gives a sharp look, annoyance crossing her face, “I’ll give you a chance to speak.”

She listens with the world holding its breath as Bellamy tells her of the Ark.

Of how every crime is punished with death, how the 100 will be locked up or slaughtered once the Ark comes down, and how the Ark will not respect either parties society. He plays with the historical aspects and the political intrigue. Clarke had never been a good political science student on the Ark; that had always been Wells specialty. Though it was enough for Clarke to twist in her own words of how they can improve each other’s people. How Clarke was the best student of the Ark’s head doctor and how the 100 are mostly from the lower class stations.  _ Hydra, Mecha, Factory, Agro _ . The stations that hold the bases of a social need. Anya listens stoically, her stag watching their own with narrowed eyes, before she finally holds up her hand. 

“We will respect how you handle things, I’ll allow you to continue it once we join. However, my people will require more than one union considering the tension between our groups.” Anya states, and Clarke can almost see Bellamy release the breath that he had been holding. She almost wishes that she had held one too. 

“More than one?” 

“Yes. Wasn’t that your intention? To unite our clans into peace.”

Clarke swallows, cutting her eyes to Bellamy for support, but their silence is cut by Apollodorus loud laugh. 

“Of course.” He speaks from behind Clarke. “Why else would we be here?”

Anya looks at her daemon with skeptical eyes before turning her back to them giving some form of hand signal to her two riders. 

“I will require you to bring four people of importance with you who can help form this union. Once this is done we will return to my Clan and the union will commence. I suggest you do so now.” Anya didn’t so much as look back at them before walking towards her vermilion horse. Though her daemon lingered behind, its ruby eyes staring into Clarke’s very soul, before it too turned it’s back towards them. 

Bellamy stepped closer to her. Putting less space between them, his voice lowering into a near whisper. “As much as I don’t want to we can bring my sisters into this. Jason and Raven are also here, and I trust them to handle this situation better than Finn or Jasper if things go south.” 

“I don’t think we have much of a choice.” Claudia Marcella said and Clarke followed her gaze across the bridge towards the Grounders.

Clarke didn’t think they had much of a choice either. 


	8. you're just a stranger, some silhouette

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is taking a step back into episodes 1.03 - 1.05, and it's mainly clearing up the aspect of Wells because I decided to go with the Wells Jaha Lives storyline. He was one of my favorites in the book series and re-watching season 1 made me remember how unnecessary his death was. However, Charlotte's storyline still remains as it affected multiple storylines. 

_ The second night that he digs a grave it is for Atom. The one delinquent that had, despite attempting to grave rob the belongings he had taken for re-distribution, had come across as a good person. This night was also the night that Clarke had forgiven him for her mother's crimes. Apollodorus for once didn't snarl at Medusa and Medusa had changed from a snake for the first time since he touched the ground.  _

_ That night ended with his almost death.  _

_ He had paused by the trees, Medusa sitting at his feet in her canid form, and Glass had come to him. She wanted to pull her weight, and being one of the few delinquents from the higher stations she had come to him. Her daemon, a frail ermine, looked up at him with large eyes, pleading.  _

_ Wells had allowed her to take his shift.  _

_ Glass had died for it.  _

  
  


* * *

_ In the following morning when they find Glass body, her throat slit, golden dust scattered within her pale hair-- _

_ Wells forgets to breathe. Medusa has to snap at his fingers to pull him back to reality. No one helps him dig this fourth grave. Not even Clarke seems to spare him a glance. The only one who comes is Persephone Blake, her eyes studying Medusa's new form, her own watching him. Ever since they touched the ground Wells had only seen him as a tiger, yet now her daemon has taken the form of a lion. He doesn't question the sudden change. None of them seem to be able to settle anyways.  _

_ "She is no longer a snake. Pity. The form fit her name well."  _

_ "I know the tale of Medusa." He doesn't mean to say it as harshly as he does. Medusa looks up at him unquestioningly.  _

_ "Hades has taken that form before. Maned wolves were said to be the form that the Mayan God of Fire, Lightning, and Storms would take. Don't be ashamed." Wells is taken back, not from the words as much as the tone. None of the Blake's had shown any degree of liking him without some underlying need for him to do something.  _

_ "Hades? That's terribly ironic."  _

_ She smirks, amused, in a way that reminds him of Clarke when they used to play Chess together.  _

_ "When you fought against Murphy...you were good." Hades golden fur shines in the sun. He would point out the irony again if it wasn't for her needing something from him.  _

_ "And what is your point?" Medusa asks before he can, the odd black fur of her bowed back rising.  _

_ Hades growls, his form changing once more to mirror his own, golden eyes meeting green.  _

_ "I'm in need of Generals. Join me and it will get my brother off of your back. Think about it."  _

_ She walks away after that; daemon trailing behind her like a shadow.  _

_ Wells wishes that he wasn't considering it.  _

  
  


* * *

_ Octavia and Jasper discover two of Glass fingers and Murphy's blade beyond the fence.  _

_ Wells wishes that he had done something. That in the moment that Murphy is strung up like a deer in old Earth Skills videos that he had said something. Moved to stop the execution. Only he stood in between Bellamy and Persephone, his maned wolf flanked by tigers, as Clarke screamed for Bellamy to do something. For this to all stop. Only it doesn't, not until Charlotte speaks up, people and daemons both falling into silence.  _

_ Wells doesn't think that he will ever forget the moment that Charlotte leaps from that cliff. Her daemon bursting into dust that sweeps away into the wind.  _

  
  


* * *

  
  


_ On the way back, he tells Persephone yes. _

  
  


* * *

_ When his mother was still alive he could never sleep. Nurse Griffin calls it 'insomnia'. A commonality amongst every civilian of the Ark. _

_ His father thinks that it's just a phase caused by them moving quarters upon his promotion. Even the elusive Marcus Kane, a new lieutenant in the guard, seems to remark it as nothing unusual upon accidental interruption.  _

_ His mother though, ignoring all of them, treats it by teaching him how to play chess.  _

_ She says that this may just be a sign of him naturally settling.  _

_ Her daemon, Oliver, with his sleek golden coat, curls around his small Medusa. Wells doesn't think that he wants to settle so soon as a tawny owl when they could be like Oliver. And Wells learns every night until he finally feels the onset of drowsiness that there is more to learning a game of chess than golden dust and settling.  _

_ "One day you might be where your father is. Chancellor's always have bird daemons. Not that it matters." She pauses, her voice drifting off as her fingers curl into his hair. The position of Chancellor is not inherited nor does the shape of one's soul matter, but there are always those that judge. Even Wells knows this at a young age, for even friendly Clarke Griffin with her Apollo expects for him to be an owl, to be like his father.  _

_ Medusa doesn't want to be that way though. _

_ "But what if we settle into a golden jackal like you? What if we--"  _

_ Mother hushes him. The smoothe lullaby of 'all the pretty little horses' on her lips.  _

_ "There will always be those who expect certain things from you. They will judge your name, your soul, but don't let them change you. Never forget who you are." _

  
  


* * *

_ His mother gains a fever in the following weeks.  _

_ By Ark Law, she burns through the maximum amount of medicine permitted. Father allows them to induce the coma, so that she may be floated. _

_ Wells watches them release her body into the cosmos the next day.  _

_ (He silently vows to never let his friends feel the same)  _

  
  


* * *

_ In Old Earth, one's soul would settle as a teenager, mostly around the time of puberty.  _

_ On the Ark, one only permanently settled when they were of adult age with a job and a proper settled form.  _

_ On the ground, Wells makes the observation that the delinquents are stuck somewhere in between. They cannot settle onto a single form, yet they are restricted. Unlike a child whose daemon can become anything.  _

  
  


* * *

_ When they attempt to do the surgery on Finn the storm seems to be the least of their issues.  _

_ Bellamy dragging in a grounder with no daemon in sight was, by far, the majority of it.  _

_ The delinquents stayed at a healthy distance as they observed the man who was born on earth. Whispers carry on how he has no daemon. They are only broken by Octavia lashing out at her siblings; hummingbird morphing into tiger. What had her daemon's name been? Zeus? Fabian? It was lower station custom to never settle on a name until one settled on a form.  _

_ "Wells, come up here with me." Persephone says, orders, the task of going to the second level was more of a hassle when one's daemon could not hang on or climb.  _

_ Clarke looks at him, an ever silent plea to not follow, but he does so anyway. He doesn't expect for Clarke to understand why he keeps the company of Persephone, Jason, Harper, and Fox. It's similar in how he doesn't understand why she keeps Finn on the wisp of her fingertips now that Raven has touched the earth.  _

_ Though no matter the choices they make in friends and company the ending is always the same.  _

_ Wells and Persephone lean as a voice of reason towards Bellamy with the grounder.  _

_ Persephone attempts to speak to him in the languages that are taught to everyone on the Ark. Wells attempts to not be impressed that the girls under the floor are educated because truthfully he's never been mean spirited.  _

_ French, Russian, Latin, Arabic, and Greek. The languages of Factory and Arrow Station. Portugese and Spanish. Mecha Station. Swahili. Tesla Station. Korean and Japanese. Sky Box Station. Hindi and Mandarin. Argo Station.  _

_ Wells formulates the list as she goes through each language with the grounder.  _

_ "I doubt he knows any of those. It's a lost cause." Miller speaks up and Persephone glares over at him.  _

_ "It was worth a shot. All we've been speaking is English, and he hasn't been responding to it." A thoughtful look crosses her face, but it disappears as soon as it comes.  _

_ "Maybe they speak a different language? Thirteen languages survived on the Ark, but there were more before the bombs." Wells throws it out. The others seem to ponder it, but Bellamy's Marcella only bristles.  _

_ Before he can interject though the news from down below carries: there was poison on the blade.  _

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought that it would make sense for these thirteen languages to have survived on the Ark. They have been shown in writing on the show from within their corresponding stations and why wouldn't the people of such a multi-nation station not be multilingual? It's such a neat small detail that would have been amazing had they elaborated or done something with it. 
> 
> \- Chapter title comes from Silhouette by Aquilo. It very much fits the 100. 
> 
> Also I hope you all enjoy the chapter ^-^


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